Taxed for Time
by ilovetvalot
Summary: It's April 15th and someone hasn't finished their taxes...mayhem ensues!


Author's Note: Thanks again to Tonnie for this one shot idea. Hope you all like it. Just a bit of Rossi/JJ fun! Please drop me a review and let me know if you liked it. As ever, I do not own Criminal Minds.

"Taxed For Time"

"Damn it!" yelled JJ, kicking the copy machine. "There isn't time for this! Just copy! PLEASE!!" she begged.

"Jennifer, are you all right?" asked David Rossi from the doorway of the copy room.

Flashing a look over her shoulder, JJ saw who was standing in the doorway. If this didn't beat all! What the hell was he doing here at eight o'clock at night! Other than witnessing her assault on the copy machine, that is.

Flushed and irritated, JJ fired back, "Do I look all right, Rossi?"

"Well," Rossi hedged, looking at the copy machine with something close to pity, "you look as if you might be a bit stressed."

"Stressed? You think I'm stressed? Why the hell would I be stressed? Just because it's," she paused to look at her watch, "eight o'clock on April 15th and I'm no closer to filing my taxes than I was eight hours ago when I started. What about that could stress me out, huh, Rossi?" JJ asked, her agitation growing by the second.

For Jennifer Jareau was punctual in everything she did. From briefings to reports, she conducted herself with the precision of the most dedicated soldier. There was only one small exception. And, truthfully, wasn't there an exception to every rule. Well, this was hers. Jennifer Jareau hated doing her taxes with an unholy passion. Every year, she put it off a little longer and this year, she was paying the price. Even the copy machine was against her.

"Jennifer, you do absolutely EVERYTHING early. Why in the hell did you wait so late to start your taxes?" asked Rossi taking a careful step forward.

"Why, I don't know, Agent Rossi. Maybe I just like the pulse pounding excitement of working against a freaking deadline. Or maybe, I just want to keep my money in my bank account where it belongs until the last possible second. Or maybe, just maybe, it's because I HATE doing taxes!" she screeched, kicking the uncooperative copy machine once more for good measure.

David watched her heaving chest with fascination. The unflappable Jennifer Jareau was out of control and damn, if he didn't like what he saw! In all the month's he'd been at the BAU, he'd never seen the slip of a woman before him ever come close to losing her poised confidence. Until tonight. Tonight, the woman looked ready to rip her hair out and then come at him. She was all reddened cheeks, glittery eyes, and smart mouth. And, he had to say, he definitely liked what he saw.

"Jennifer, honey, step away from the copy machine. Come on, now, just step away from it. You don't really want to hurt it," he cajoled.

"Yes, I do! And, after I'm done with it, I may turn my attentions on you if you don't stop condescending to me! I'll bet you're done with your taxes, aren't you?" she asked, glaring at him and blowing a wispy hair from her eye.

"Filed last week, as a matter of fact," David grinned.

"Oh, don't smile at me! You had an accountant do it for you, didn't you?" JJ asked, narrowing one eye at him.

"Well…," David hedged and backed up a step at the look in her eye.

"That's what I thought! Somebody else did the work!" JJ said, turning back to jerk open the door to the copy machine.

Bending over to see where the copier jam was occurring, David watched as Jennifer's short black skirt rode up the back of her thighs. Appreciating the view, he couldn't help but stare.

"Ya know, I can feel you staring at my ass, Rossi! My daddy had a saying…if you ain't part of the solution," she said yanking at the hung paper, "you're part of the problem!"

"Hey, if you put a sight like that in front of a virile man, Jennifer, he's gonna look," Rossi replied, taking a step forward. "Move, honey," he ordered.

Taking a step back, JJ assumed the position he'd previously been in. Staring at HIS ass, she murmured, "The view back here isn't that bad, either."

"Careful, Jennifer," he said, unjamming the machine, "I might just think you're flirting with me." 

"I don't have time to flirt," JJ growled, stepping forward to hit the copy button again. She breathed a sigh of relief as the machine hummed and copied her W-2.

"You know, they have professionals that will do this for you," Rossi said, watching her face light up as she picked up the freshly copied paper from the machine.

"Only a wussy doesn't do their own taxes," JJ muttered.

"You're father was a CPA, wasn't he?" Rossi asked, amused.

"Yep," JJ said, brushing past him on the way back to her office.

Following her, David asked, "You know you have control issues, right?"

Stopping abruptly in the middle of the bullpen, JJ turned to look at the older man with fire in her eyes, "Really? You're gonna profile me NOW? I'm warning you, Rossi…,"

"Hey, that wasn't me profiling. That was me making a casual observation," David returned, holding his hands up in surrender. "I fixed the machine for you, didn't I?"

"Yes, and for that service, I'll let you live a little bit longer," JJ grumbled.

Laughing, David offered, "Jennifer, just let me get my accountant on the phone. He could probably do your taxes in an hour. I pay the man enough a year, he owes me a few favors."

JJ considered his offer. Finally, she asked, "And, what would I have to do in return for this little favor?"

"Well, for starters, you could go bend back over the co-," David began.

"Oh, shut up!" JJ spat, rolling her eyes.

Laughing again, David asked, "How about dinner? I'll get my accountant to do your taxes if you agree to let me take you out to dinner."

"Like a date?" asked Jennifer curiously.

"Not like a date, JJ. On a date. I've been looking for a way to get the calm, cool, and collected Jennifer Jareau out for a while. This seems like the perfect opportunity," Dave explained.

"You want to take me on a date…tonight…after you watched me assault a copy machine and threaten to do the same thing to you," JJ asked again.

"Yes, exactly," David nodded, smiling.

"Do you have some kind of death wish?" JJ asked, tilting her head.

"I like to live dangerously," Rossi told her, grinning.

"Yeah, that OR you're suicidal," JJ fired back.

"Go out with me and find out….Come on, Jennifer, which is it to be? Don't tell me you're intimidated," Rossi dared.

"I wasn't the one backing out of the room when I was kicking the copy machine," JJ said sweetly.

"Honey, you looked homicidal. You can't blame me for that…besides, I rescued you, didn't I?" Rossi asked, walking forward to stand in front of her.

"I suppose you did. Call your accountant, Rossi. You've got yourself a deal," JJ said, looking up into his darkly handsome face.

"Oh, Jennifer, one more thing, honey," Rossi said quietly.

"Now what?" she asked.

"I want my goodnight kiss first," he murmured.

"Your what?" JJ asked, raising an eyebrow.

"All dates end with a kiss goodnight, don't they? I want mine up front," he whispered, leaning over her.

"Who says the date will be that good?" JJ whispered back, coyly.

"Well, if it isn't, we'll just have to try until we get it right, won't we?" he murmured against her lips.

"That's a method, I suppose," she said against his mouth.

And, then, there wasn't any more talking for several long minutes. For David Rossi was a legendary profiler, master negotiator, apt problem solver, AND phenomenally talented kisser. And, Jennifer Jareau found that all out in one short night. From that night forward, David Rossi made certain that Jennifer Jareau never dreaded April 15th again,

~The End~


End file.
